Post #33.13, Weds., June 29, 2022

Historical setting: 589 C.E. Ana’s cottage in the Vosges Mts.

         Thole is grateful for Ana’s promise. Before Tilp and Thole’s baby is due Ana wants to search out the resources from the ancient times when medicine was a science and things she needs to know now had been written down. We make a plan to visit to the nuns of the Holy Cross Abbey in Poitiers. As well-endowed and famous as that place is they will surely have ancient books of medicine. And maybe she will be able to observe the latest that is known among women of medicine dealing with a possible difficult birth.

         Thole will arrange for us to use horses so Ana and I can travel more efficiently to the places where she can learn what is needed. And he suggests a path for our journey back to the Loire through more Christian places. I’m definitely pleased that I won’t have to encounter those hunters again; neither of us wants to leave here the ways we came.

         Thole goes on as we sort out the necessary preparations and make a completely new plan for the summer season now here.  I’ll be finished with the roof in a day or two, but now more than ever I see the need for some kind of stable or shelter for beasts. Also we need to speak to Brother Servant to arrange for our gardens and the crop of grain to be harvested and used while we are away.

         With all these new plans we’re making this cottage can become useful to the monastery as a place for travelers to spend a night, as we put aside our own hopes.

         When the servant monk hears of our plan to travel to other monasteries on horseback he tells us of a particular need of Father Columbanus.

         “The iron merchant is at Annegray today and he has delivered to Father Columbanus messages from bishops in cities all around us. It seems the pilgrims visiting from distant monasteries are complaining about our community. It seems it is not enough we are all Christians together, with the same God, the same Creed, the same Trinity and the Psalms. They want to see the same hair cut. A messenger on horseback is needed now take letters of response to these complaints the father has been receiving.”

         Brother Servant says I need to go and meet with the father and hear more of his need for a messenger. So now I may also have a purpose for our journey.

 (Continues tomorrow)

Post #33.12, Tues., June 28, 2022

Historical setting: 589 C.E. Ana’s cottage in the Vosges Mts.

         The anticipation that fills this house just now is the complete terror of hope. No one ever speaks aloud of hope being terror, but we all know. Hopes and joys and promises always appear as blessings, but hopes are hidden fear.  Awful possibility haunts as a shadow behind every dangerous journey. It lurks in the darkness of the minds of sailors and travelers preparing for voyages packing a travel bag with a flute in case there is dancing on deck, but also with the leaves of hyssop to ward off the odors of death. And like any journey, birth into life is wrought with fear. Hope and fear are always close traveling companions.

         Dear God, give us the fearless wisdom to nurture hope.

         Thole stayed the night. Ana lay awake all night considering what to tell Thole, whispering to me her thoughts and plans.

         “Perhaps a monastery with women in medicine would have books about dangerous births or at least the midwives there could share advice with me. Do you know of a convent such as this, Laz?”

         “I do know of just such a place, but it’s such a long way to Poitiers from here. I’ll go with you Ana, but how could we leave here now, with our own gardens planted and all our own hopes and dreams just starting?”

         “You pray about it, Laz. God will surely offer you the clarity of purpose: is it more important to watch the oats and beans grow, or to care for one who is in need?”

         “Of course, Ana.  I should know I can’t be husband to God’s own angel without my first thought being to care for others also.”

         “You can put off the work of this place, Laz. Thole will bring horses so we can travel those distances quickly, and I will see all the monasteries that have the knowledge of these things tucked away with secrets. I can search the writings of the Romans and Greeks who knew medicine so well. Then we can find the knowledgeable women so that when Tilp’s baby comes, I will know better than anyone but God what can be done to save both mother and child. Just think of that wonder. I have time to learn it well! God answers our hopes and prayers that I may truly be of value in the work to let generations continue.”

         Dear God, Thank you. I see you are all about saving the ever after. Amen.

 (Continues tomorrow)

Post #33.11, Thursday, June 23, 2022

Historical setting: 589 C.E. Ana’s cottage in the Vosges Mts.

         Thole led the horse, as we made the heavy trudge up the hill on foot. And Ana is delighted to see another familiar person from her childhood on the Loire.  She hung the water pot on the hearth and spread the biscuit dough rising to make two into three.

         “Thole came looking for you to ask your advice on finding someone to help with the birth of the baby he and his wife are planning for.”

         “Actually,” Thole corrects, “We are in need of a midwife to stay with her through the months. I mean, it would be too long a journey for you to go just when needed. So you would be welcome to stay in our village.”

         We have barely a cottage here, with only a half a roof, and not even enough hay for his horse. In among the ruin of this place was a stone cut for a watering trough, so we can water a visiting horse, but we have no stable and barely any oats now in this season between the planting and the harvest. I leave them to talk offering to tend to the horse. All I can do is loosen his lead and tie him out where there is pasture grass for this night’s visit.

         When I return to the house Ana is sitting on the hearthstone, and Thole on the frame of the guest bed and they are talking softly and seriously over a pot of tea.

         “Laz, Thole has told me of many great strengths and also of the brokenness of his wife, Tilp. I’ve never witnessed such a birth as this might be, but I have heard of it before. In the ancient times Julius Caesar, the Roman Emperor, was birthed by cutting the mother.”

         “No, no. You can’t do anything that would hurt Tilp.” Thole interrupts.

          Ana goes on, “I don’t know if it is something that could be used to save both the mother and child. My teacher said only to do this if the mother had died, and then it could possibly save the baby.  I believe you, yourself, Thole, was one she saved in this way.”

         “No.” Thole protests, “we don’t want the baby without Tilp. I know what that was for my father to endure.”

          Ana offers, “I’ve heard it said that Caesar’s mother didn’t die. I just have to learn more about it. If I could find the ancient Roman writings I could prepare myself with a better understanding.” [footnote]

[footnote] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Caesarean_section Let me take a moment to warn readers and followers– this blog is most definitely an unreliable source for modern medical information even when Wikipedia is noted.

 (Continues Tuesday, June 28, 2022)

Post #33.10, Weds., June 22, 2022

Historical setting: 589 C.E. At the monastery at Annegray

         Thole came here because hunters brought rumors that a healer once owed to the pagans is here.

         “So” I ask, “what is this urgent need the pagans have to find Anatase?”

         “You’ve seen her then?”

         “Why are you looking for her now? You, yourself, paid the debt.”

         “You know, Ezra, Tilp, my wife, is tiny and frail but she is sweet and beloved.”

         “I know. I was at your marriage ritual last winter.”

         “We are planning that she will birth our child sometime in winter around the time of my own birth when my mother died. And you know that was because my father couldn’t find anyone to attend the birth. He found Auntie Eve but it was too late. She could only save me.”

         “So you are afraid for the birth now, is that right, Thole?”

         “Yes, of course, everyone is afraid. There’s been no baby born to our tribe in a whole generation, ever since Tilp was born. And that was a difficult birth. And they had help then. We have no midwife among us, and there are terrible dangers of having no one with the knowledge. Anatase had the very best training ever. Even as a child, blind Eve took her to be the eyes for so many births. So, Ezra, have you any idea what has become of Anatase?”

         “I do know, Thole. She isn’t here at Annegray. And she escaped the pirates who kidnapped her. Then when they saw she was one bent on escape and they couldn’t sell her they raped her and beat her.”

         “Where is she, Ezra?”

         “She’s married now. She belongs with a husband and not to Largin’s Pagan tribe any longer. She is old enough to choose her family.”

         “Well, let me find her husband then and beg him to let her come.”

         “Her husband doesn’t own her. She has her own mind as you would know. You knew her. So finding her husband is pointless… as you can see clearly as you are speaking to him just now.”

         “Ezra, are you saying you married Anatase?”

         “It was just a blessing by the father here, and she calls herself Ana now. Come along with me to our cottage.  I’m sure Ana will be surprised to see you as I was also.”

(Continues tomorrow)

Post #33.9, Tues., June 21, 2022

Historical setting: 589 C.E. The path to the cottage in the Vosges

         It wasn’t exactly the ritual we were seeking, but now I do have a clearer understanding of Ana’s hopes and dreams.  I share the hope in the possibility that we could one day have children. It seems so common, but it is also such a shimmering dare.

         With or without a proper blessing, I continue the project of thatching the uncovered part of the cottage and we share these beautiful nights lying under the older roof of this cottage.

         On this new day the first crop of the garden is ready; today it is the chard.  A bird arrives this morning summonsing me alone, to the monastery so Ana stays to fetch the water and boil the chard for supper when I return.

         At Annegray I’m told someone has arrived from a pagan tribe on the Loire, and he is asking for “Anatase.” Now here it is Thole, come on horseback all this way from the village on the Loire where he still lives with the tribe who follows Druid Largin.

         “Ezra? I had heard from some hunters you were killed in an accident hunting.“

         “And Thole you know my oddity with death. And here you are also, looking surprisingly well, and you have a horse, I see!”

         “It’s borrowed from the count’s stable so I rode here after the rumor that Anatase is living among these Christians.”

         “I thought you and your little bride would satisfy the pagan need to continue the lineage. Are they still asking for the return of the borrowed child, Anatase, after all these years?”

         “Well, yes, but my father-in-law, Largin, has accepted that Tilp and I may keep the lineage.”

         I mean to change the subject, “Do you ever see your father, Jesse, anymore?”

           “Yes. We’ve made amends. The widow of Saumur left him. She quickly learned he was married to his grief. It’s a very sad house he’s made for himself there.”

         “I think Eve knew that too. She said Jesse always thought his sorrows would vanish if he could marry again. The utility of a woman comes and goes but grief is never replaced with new.”

         Thole knows a lot about grief. He finds comfort in pagan ways of knowing ancestors. Maybe that is the comfort that Christians find in saints. I, myself, find it in the shared Spirit of love — thank you God for staying close.

 (Continues Tomorrow)

Post #33.8, Thurs., June 16, 2022

Historical setting: 589 C.E. Annegray

         Ana and Brother Servant are waiting outside the door here. Ana is sparkling as I tell her the Father will bless us.

         “So we will officially be married by a father!”

         “Not really, Ana. It is to be a blessing of our common bond of friendship – like the blessing he gives a whole community of chaste monks. There will be no mention of children.”

         “Blessings for prayers and dreams are good too, aren’t they Laz?”

         “Very good.” Thank you God.

         The servant monk is called to meet with the father just now, so Ana and I can sort through all the hopes and promises that can be blessed.

         We are invited back in to stand before the father with Brother Servant as witness.

         Our promises are spoken in earth things, a garden and a well, a hearthstone and a table and the father blesses our belonging to one another in holy poverty and obedience. The holy chastity vow was graciously not spoken.

         “Ana, I promise you a shelter with a roof and a window.”

         “Ezra, whom I call Laz, I promise I will take the shutter from the window and open the door to sweep out the rain, and let the sunshine pour in anyway, even if we have an actual roof someday.”

         We started back up the high climb with the next bird in the cage. And Ana stops. 

         “Laz, I think we made that blessing too easy for the father to dismiss our dream of having children one day. Let’s go back there, and ask for something more.”

         “Don’t worry Ana, if we would have children one day, they will still be blessed by God. What we have is what was blessed.”

         Let’s go back, and this time you say, “I promise to build us a stable with a hayloft, and a grain bin, and stalls for a donkey and donkey colts and cows and calves and hens and roosters and baby chicks! That manger we will have will be long to serve everything that comes to partake of our finest oats.”

         “Very well, if it would please you.”

         And so we go back, and Brother Servant and the father are yet meeting together, so I say it just as Ana told me to promise it.  “…And I promise you the stable will be large and the pastures vast.”        

         The father looks with sorrow on Ana and simply says, “Go with God.”

 (Continues Tuesday, June 21, 2022)

Post #33.7, Weds., June 15, 2022

Historical setting: 589 C.E. The monastery at Annegray

         The father tells me that the promises Ana and I are making with one another can’t be blessed as a marriage because he assumes Ana can’t bear children; and apparently in these times marriage must be about procreation or it isn’t marriage. Of course that is how it is celebrated among the Celtic Pagans with their druid priests and maybe it always is; whether Pagan or Christian, Celtic or Roman, or just a legal contract, it is commonly assumed that marriage is a commitment for the generations.

         But then isn’t every human being already a part of generations past and generations to come. We are all the unison of humanity as surely as people are before us and people are after us. It can’t just be about children. We share in God’s spirit of love and when we join our hearts and minds and strength in this flowing river of spiritual life each is complete. We are one in the Spirit. This eternal flow of creative love makes us part of all generations regardless of the tangible spawn of humanity. Birthing children is just one metaphor for life continuing. And a possibility of birthing our own children is just one way to celebrate the gracious gift of all Creation. There are many signs in nature pointing to a truth beyond now toward evermore. And we aren’t asking for eternity, just a sign that evermore is the nature of God.

         The father breaks into my thoughts, “Son, by your silence you must have been assuming a marriage could be proclaimed without a promise of children.”

         “I was thinking that through, yes, Father.”

         “Of course, I understand.”

         I can agree with the father that it wouldn’t be appropriate to invite this community of monks to a big feast. But… 

         And so I answer, “We can respect the solemnity in the simple. In fact I believe we would both welcome a simple blessing. But just because there is an unknown possibility of children couldn’t our vows to one another and to God be opened to a wider ‘maybe’ as are all marriages I would suppose? I mean, Jesus didn’t speak of the wedding ritual, except to offer a sign of abundance at a wedding where there had been a dearth of wine. Abundance comes many ways not just children. So when the wine ran out Jesus simply asked for water and with a blessing it became more than anyone could imagine. It was good.”

(Continues tomorrow)

Post #33.6, Tuesday, June 14, 2022

Historical setting: 589 C.E. The monastery at Annegray

         Ana expected we were called here for a medical need. I was prepared with an accounting of the cottage. But the father’s concern is not about the uses the monastery has for us. His only care is that Ana is safe and living in a fearless circumstance close to God and nurtured in Christian love. Her answers were apparently satisfactory to allow me to continue to be a part of her life up there. So he has asked me specifically what of our plans – dreams – hopes, whatever it is to account for our continuing together.

         “Yes,” I answer, “It would be marriage, surely.”

         “Marriage? Ana said that too, and that you were thinking I would bless a marriage between you.”  He sounds skeptical.

         “That is surely a good piece of our hopes and dreams.”

         My mind is racing through centuries of marriage ceremonies, the dance, the wine gone to soon worrying his mother so Jesus gave us a sign of the nature of abundance turning water to wine. [John 2:1-11] And the latest wedding I’ve witnessed, the Pagan event rich with symbol of fertility along with hours into the night drinking ale and women dancing with a white snake passing among them all.

         “Yes, Father.” I answer, “A ceremony of marriage with you presiding would be a blessing and an honor.”

         “Oh no. There can’t be an actual marriage ceremony of course. We can’t have the monks thinking a marriage is possible after they themselves laid their eyes on Ana in an unfortunate incident.”

         “She told me of the incident. I understand. A simple private blessing of marriage would be very fine.”
         He explains,  “You and Ana may speak your promises of friendship to one another, and I will offer a simple prayer of blessing.  The servant monk will be the witness.”

         “We are just promising friendship to one another? You mean in a way that brothers in a community are brothers and friends living together?”

         “Exactly. It will be promising a forever of chaste belonging.”

         “So our promises to one another should not be about children?”

         “Surely you must know, Ana suffered injuries that may keep her from bearing children so I can bless your chastity together but surely I can’t bless any promise of children. It is no judgment on Ana. I’ve blessed others who are chaste in friendship without procreation.”

         He answers my silent pause, “Surely Ezra, you aren’t anticipating an actual marriage to that woman?”

 (Continues tomorrow)

Post #33.5, Thurs., June 9, 2022

Historical setting: 589 C.E. The Monastery at Annegray

         Ana and I have been called before Father Columbanus for some kind of accounting. On our walk we are both thinking up possible reasons he’s called for us.  Ana suspects someone has a medical need and I wonder if he wants to assign me to stay there and help with the construction of a scriptorium. I can see he would need my help in making the old fortress ruin into a suitable shelter with windows to allow light for the work in the inks.  It’s obvious that Annegray will be better suited to compete with the Roman monasteries already producing manuscripts if these monks can establish a practice of copying scriptures.

          But really, we both expect he just wants some kind of accounting. They endured the storm as we did. And the cottage by the well is part of the ruin he was granted by Guntram, the king. It is the father’s responsibility to care for the properties.

         Arriving the servant monk greets us, and takes the bird we’ve brought so that the messaging to and from the cottage can continue. As I supposed, the father first wants to speak to Ana alone and she is told she doesn’t need to take her medical kit. I wait on a wooden bench. The servant monk paces before me without speaking, as though I am still, in his mind, a captured pirate awaiting interrogation.  When it is my turn to meet with the father Ana sits on the bench and the monk seems much more at ease.

         The father tells me he has spoken with Ana and he asked her about my continuing presence at her cottage. He seems to be expecting me to wonder what she might have answered when she was asked. I don’t have to guess.

         “We share a dream.” I answer.

         He smiles and sits back in his chair, touching the tips of his fingers together leaving the space of his hands opened for thought but not at all closed together in as in prayer. He seems to be waiting for me to say more. So I offer an accounting of the cottage.

         “We found a well, back in the underbrush. It is spring fed and very accessible to the cottage. I’ve been adding a thatched roof to the opened room. We have a garden started, and a field plowed ready for grain.”

         “Ana also said you both share a dream, but wasn’t specific. Just exactly what did she mean by that?”

(Continues Tuesday, June 14, 2022)

Post #33.4, Weds., June 8, 2022

Historical setting: 589 C.E. Ana’s cottage in the Vosges Mts.

         So here we are blest on this new morning of forever having the consummation of the promise borrowed from the dream, beautiful and new with terrors fading, fears washed nearly away in bright morning light and the ever-flowing cool of the mountain spring always filling the well.

         Thank you God.

         I mention it. “We could have a marriage of our union now, with promises and blessings and all.”

         She answers, smiling, “That surely could shatter a pirate curse, In fact it already has. So, Laz, if we make a marriage of our promises aloud, I would promise you the sun and all the stars.”

         “You can promise that? I was only thinking I could promise you a roof.”

         “A roof? I promise you all the wonders of creation, and you only promise to lay a heap of thatch over my head?”

         “Well, Ana, I would promise you the endless heavens where the sun and the stars dangle so playfully these days, but you already have that– you are that — the full canopy of love, the all of heaven.”

         “Of course, Laz, That is what love is. And we are talking about love are we not?”

         “We are.”

         “Well then make sure you tell God it is about more than a roof.”

         “Dear God, thank you for this blessing of forever love.”

         One of the birds fledged here on top of the wall was carried back to Annegray by the servant monk; and now here it is, returning again to its mate. There is a message attached.

         “Fr. C. requests you both.”  And so we will go.

         Ana supposes someone has a medical need. She prepares her kit with fresh herbs and cleans and sharpens the little blades we were using to scrape the inks.

         As for me, I suppose the father will take Ana aside and ask her if she is well as he no doubt wonders if I am an intrusion in her solace. His plan may be that I stay at Annegray, particularly if Ana says she doesn’t want me here.  But I also know they have need of someone to help with building a scriptorium from the part of the ruin where they gather.

         So we go with medical kit and a bird in a cage, and the saw I borrowed from the tools at the monastery.”

(Continues tomorrow)